Behind The Olde Sweete Shoppe
by avenginggeek
Summary: It's basically Avengers in Victorian London. No idea where I'm going with this, so don't really have a plot to summarize. I like to think it's good... it probably isn't. please read.
1. Chapter 1

so... yeah... this is basically avengers in the 1800's... I was watching ripper street on BBC and then I jsut thought "hey, why not put the avengers in the 1800's..." (there is something **deeply** wrong with me). I have no idea where I'm going with this... or if I'm even going to continue uploading.

I swiftly stepped into the Olde Sweete Shoppe at the end of the lane. It was a small, dark, lifeless little shop and rarely saw any customers.

"Ms. Hill. Is Mr. Fury in?" I asked the young, dark haired woman behind the counter. She had her hair pinned up and was wearing a dark navy dress that accentuated her slender frame.

"Indeed he is. Right this way, Ms. Romanoff."

She cast a piercing glare through the grimy windows and pulled the thick curtains shut. She locked the door and walked through the curtain leading to behind the Olde Sweete Shoppe.

I followed her to a brightly lit room where Nicholas Fury sat in a crumpled suit with Philip Coulson.

"Natasha. Come, look at this." Fury said, staring intensely at what appeared to be a newspaper.

"Disposing so quickly with the formalities Mr. Fury? And in front of two young, pure, unwed ladies? It is no wonder you have such a small social circle." I said, but walked towards the two men.

"I don't pay you to stand around and pass comments on my manners."

"Why I think this is better than work on my back is a mystery to me. What is this?" I looked down at the newspaper.

"The Captain. The American soldier, he is coming here."

I removed my silk gloves and picked up the article.

"He is attending a dance tonight. Allow me to guess, you want me to persuade him to join us?"

"Yes." I turned and walked to the door. "But be warned; there are widespread rumors of his purity, even here."

I froze and turned back to face Fury. "You mean to say he has never lain with someone? Not even a whore?"

"He claims to be saving himself, for his future wife. Oh, and be warned, I believe Barton was planning on dropping in on you later this day."

I nodded and swept out of the room.

"It is a nice day, is it not?" Hill said with a smile as I put my gloves back on and pulled out a parasol.

"I suppose, for some." I replied, leaving the small store.

The sun shone down on me as I walked back home.

* * *

"And where have you been?" Eliza said the minute she saw me.

"Out, running errands."

"Get upstairs quickly, you have a queue forming."

I nodded and glided up the strong oak staircase and into my room. Clint was already waiting.

"Eliza is getting suspicious as to why you never seem to pay."

"The whore can go suck a cock. If she hasn't already." He growled.

I carefully removed each item of my clothing and tossed them aside. "You do this far too much."

"Do not act as though you don't enjoy it." He replied, pushing me against the bed.

* * *

Once Clint, and a few others, were done, I called one of the younger girls to me.

"Vicky? Would you mind helping me get ready tonight?"

The small blond girl smiled slightly, but it soon turned to a frown. "But Miss. Eliza... She already says I do not earn enough to pay my keep."

"Do not worry, I will speak to her. You are only fifteen, after all."

Vicky smiled. "What gown are you wearing? And where are you going?"

"I think the emerald silk. And I plan on going to a formal dance. Did you hear that the American Captain is coming here, to London? Supposedly he will be at this dance."

"Really Miss? Oh how exciting! I heard he saved hundreds of women and children!"

I smiled silently and slipped on a pair of silk drawers. I put on my best corset, lined with black silk and edged with white lace. Vicky laced it up, tying all the silk ribbons in neat bows. I put on my own silk petticoats and then pulled out the dress.

"It is beautiful miss." Vicky said, a little in awe. "And very stylish. I heard all the young women in Boston and Paris are wearing such a dress."

I stepped into the dress, letting Vicky fasten it up and arrange the skirts. I sat down in front of my dressing table and pulled out a small bag of face paints.

"Just the lips, Vicky. In red. And maybe a small amount of black around the eyes."

She nodded and carefully applied it. I pulled out a heavy box of jewels and put on a velvet ribbon, fixing a simple diamond brooch at the front of my neck. I put on a pair of heavy diamond drop earrings.

Vicky pulled my hair into a bun, leaving two scarlet locks to frame my face.

"Thank you Vicky. That will be all."

"Miss, may I ask you something?"

"Perhaps. Tell me what it is, and I will decide if I want to tell you."

"Where do you come from? You have no accent, and seem to know far more than is normal for any slums."

"I am from Russia."

"Russia?"

"Yes. You can go now, Vicky."

She nodded and walked out. I picked up a small bag and put in some spare change, and then squirted some perfume on my neck.

I swept out of the room and down the stairs.

"Out again Natasha?" Eliza said, glaring at me.

"Just tonight Eliza. And let Vicky have the night off."

I didn't let her reply before I walked out of the building. I flagged down a cab and got in.

I gave him the address and sat back.

* * *

Twenty minutes later I handed the driver some money and stepped out.

"Your invitation miss?" A servant asked me at the door.

"Why not keep this between just us?" I whispered, handing him a few coins.

He nodded and stood aside. I swept in and grabbed a glass of champagne off one of the waiters.

I noticed Anthony Stark, sitting with two girls and a glass of whiskey.

I made my way across the room to him.

"Katy, Daisy. I would like a word with Mr. Stark." I said firmly.

"It's Deliah." One of the girls mumbled, but both still stood and walked away.

"One must wonder where you find the stamina for such activities, Mr. Stark." I said, scanning the room.

"Oh, you know. With practice comes perfection."

"One must also wonder how girls that cheap got in the door."

"Same way you got in, I would imagine. Fury send you for the American Captain?"

"Yes. I am to persuade him to join us."

"Well, we all know what that means."

"Do you have any additional information? Or may I leave your vile presence?"

"Ooh, kitty's got claws. His name is Steven Rogers. He's 23-"

"23? And he has done so much?"

"You don't appear much older to my eyes."

"I have not done as much as he."

"His parents are both dead. Only child. He likes a modest life, and I hear he's still pure."

"Then it will be that much easier bedding him. Have a good night, Mr. Stark."

"Oh, and he is being announced the moment he arrives."

I gave a slight nod and swept away.

* * *

I spent the next half hour talking to a few guests, and carefully observing the ballroom until the string quartet stopped playing and people hushed each other to stay silent.

I looked up at the stage and saw a smiling, elderly man standing there.

"Excuse me, but if you all would not mind I would like to announce Captain Steven Rogers!"

A tall, blond man who looked distinctly uncomfortable despite his smile walked onstage. I joined in on the loud applause.

"Thank you, and can I just say how much of an honor it is to be here, and that London is a truly beautiful city." He said, and I couldn't help but notice the faint pinkish tinge to his cheeks.

He walked down and I smoothly walked over, and curtsied in front of him.

"Captain. Would you mind if I gave you this dance?"

"I- Of course not, ma'am. I'd be honoured." He offered me a hand and I took it.

"So do I not get your name?" He asked. His words had a strong American accent.

"Romanoff. Natasha Romanoff."

"Romanoff? Is that not the name of the Russian Tsars?"

"We are not related." I said quickly.

"But you're not British."

"No. I am Russian."

"So you're Russian, and you have the same name as Russian Tsars, but you're not related?"

"Exactly."

"Alright so."

Suddenly a young, dark haired man appeared at the Captain's soldier. "Steve! Why don't you introduce me to your new friend?"

"Bucky, this isn't the time-"

"Sure it is! Miss, the name is James Barnes. But call me Bucky, everyone does."

"Natasha Romanoff. It is nice to meet you."

"You're pretty, and you seem to have him wrapped round your little finger. Why not try make a man outta him?" Bucky said with a smirk.

The Captain's face turned red. "Bucky- she's a lady, not one of your brothel girls. You shouldn't be talking like that in front of her."

I laughed lightly. "And who ever said I wasn't a brothel girl?"

Bucky roared with laughter and the captain turned redder.

"I- I didn't mean to say there was anything wrong with that-"

"Do relax, my dear captain. It was a joke."

"Well, I'll go talk to some of those girls..." Bucky left the two of us.

"So who was he? A friend?"

"Not any more." The captain replied with a laugh. "He's my best friend, we grew up together in Brooklyn and fought together during the war. We've saved each others lives more times than I can count."

"How heroic."

He twirled me and I smiled. "You're a good dancer, Captain Rogers."

"Please, call me Steve."

"Very well Steve. What do you plan on doing now that the war is over?"

"I was hoping to find a wife, have a family, settle down."

"Oh really? And where would you hope to find such a wife?"

"Anywhere she may be."

"And if there were a woman in this very room who would do such a thing?" I subtly moved closer, so our bodies were almost touching.

"Well then I'd want to know about her." He murmured.

I leaned up and laid my soft full lips against his cheek. "This dance is over. Perhaps we may have another, later in the night." I smiled at him and walked away.

* * *

Later in the night, as the last dance was called, Steve approached me.

"May I have this dance ma'am?" He asked, taking my hand and kissing it.

I smiled. "Of course."

The music started and he led me to the dance floor.

"If I may enquire, where exactly are you staying?"

"In rooms above here."

"That's convenient." I said softly, looking into his eyes.

"I suppose it is."

He twirled me, and I moved our bodies closer.

"You're a very grateful dancer. The way you move your body... it's intoxicating. Enchanting."

"Thank you." I whispered in his ear.

The dance ended but he didn't let me go.

"Why not go up to your room... for a nightcap?" I suggested, whispering it softly in his ear.

His cheeks turned faintly pink. "I- I'd like that."

He took my hand and led me up the ornate stairs.

"So where is your friend Bucky?"

"He has rooms elsewhere."

I nodded and followed him into the room.

"Would you mind if I go freshen up? Is there a powder room?"

He nodded and gestured down the hall. I walked into it and quickly removed all my clothes, leaving only my corset.

I walked back out and sneaked up behind him, clasping my hands over his eyes.

"Few can sneak up behind me."

I twisted around his body and laid my lips upon his.

Steve's blush deepened but his uncertain hands seemed to move themselves onto my thigh. I pulled at his suit jacket and waistcoat, wrapping my thighs around him. He lifted me into a bedroom as the kiss deepened.

I smiled as he almost ripped off the corset.

"You know you want to." I whispered in his ear.

He grinned and all but threw me onto the bed.

please review... evn if it is just to question my sanity. which fyi I'm already doing. and I have no idea how some character's are gonna be introduced without modern technology. although I have decided Tony will basically just be Sherlock Holmes with a different name, loads of money and American parents. it's pretty much in 1866, a year after the American Civil War because that can kinda work with the war hero aspect of Captain America. I don't know...


	2. Chapter 2

thanks for all the reviews...

The next morning dawned bright and early. I woke in Steve's arms and cursed. I had not planned on spending all night here. I had wanted to go home.

I quickly stood and grabbed my corset, on the floor from the previous night. I laced it up as quickly as possible and grabbed only a petticoat from the ground. The dress was too fancy and constricting, and would only make me an easy target for pickpockets and cut-throats.

I left his room and carefully shut the door before running out of the building. I used a back entrance and slipped into an alleyway. The sun gave just enough light for me to find my way home.

* * *

But when I eventually got home it was clear something was wrong. All of the girls were sitting around, all looking upset, some even crying.

One of the girls, Rosie, immediately stood and walked to me. "It's Miss Eliza! She was taken by some police on Baker's Street!"

"What?" I said, eyes widened.

"She wants to see you." Another girl added.

I rushed up to my room and grabbed a bag of coins before running back out and leaping into a cab.

The police station was quiet when I entered. I looked down and realized I was still only wearing undergarments. But I kept my head held high and walked over to the desk.

"Hello. I am here to see Eliza Sinnet."

The officer looked down at a book. "Ah yes. The whore. And why exactly are you coming to see her? How do you know her?"

"I am her sister." I lied.

He nodded and pulled out a set of keys. "Right this way miss."

I followed him to the cells. Eliza was sitting in the corner of one, head bent and hands clasped in prayer. I rushed to her side.

"Will you not let me in, to speak to her?" I asked the policeman, frowning.

"No. And I'm staying nearby."

I knelt down beside Eliza, taking her hands. They felt cold in mine.

"Natasha. You came."

"Of course! What happened? How did you get caught?"

"I was working the corner at Baker's Street. I was fool enough to ask a police officer if he wanted to go in the alleyway."

"Oh Eliza! Do not worry, I will pay whatever sum is necessary."

She shook her head with a sad smile. "It is no use. Tomorrow morning I will hang for my crimes, and nothing short of a miracle shall stop that."

"Hang? But that seems so harsh-"

"I have gotten warnings before. I should have known. Natasha, you must listen to me! You must take over the house. Take care of the girls!"

"But-"

"That's enough." The policeman said abruptly, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet.

"No! Leave us, let me talk to her more!" I protested but he dragged me out.

"That's quite enough." He locked the gate to the cells and let me go.

I stormed out of the building and went through back alleyways to get home.

* * *

When I got home I told all the girls what had happened, and that Eliza would hang. Most erupted into sobs. I went into my room and locked the door.

* * *

The rest of the day passed with unease. None of the girls worked, with nobody to tell them to.

I stayed in my room and tried desperately thinking of a way to get Eliza out. But by the time night fell I still had nothing.

I unwillingly got into bed. But my dreams were haunted by images of Eliza, body suspended in midair, noose around her neck.

I awoke shortly before dawn, less rested than when I went to bed the previous night. I washed before quickly putting on a dull forest green gown and a black hooded cloak over it. I made my way out to the square where the hangings always took place. The wooden scaffolding was ready, and a rope was already tightly tied.

I did not have to wait long for Eliza and the policeman to arrive. Eliza was muttering, hands clasped in prayer.

"Do not act as though you have not sinned! We are all sinners!" She suddenly screamed when she neared the rope. The policeman shoved her forward and the executioner put the rope around Eliza's slender, pale neck.

"We are all the same-" Her words were cut off as the trap door opened and her body fell, hanging there limply.

I put my hand over my mouth to silence the sob radiating from my throat. Eliza had taken me in, years ago, when I was just a young girl that barely spoke the language. And now she was dead.

I walked away from the square before anyone payed me any notice and sank to the ground in an alleyway.

My sobs echoed between the stone walls until I heard footsteps.

I looked up and saw a dark figure looming over me. He had a kerchief over his face.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" He pulled out a knife and lunged at me.

I quickly rolled out of the way, eternally grateful that in my haste I had forgotten to put on a crinoline that morning.

He roared and grabbed my arm. I pulled it out of his grasp and sweeped a leg under him, knocking my assailant to the ground.

But still, he didn't give up. He leapt to his feet and tried punching me. I grabbed his fist and twisted his arm behind his back. He tried sending the knife into me with his other hand and I hit his arm with the side of my hand and he dropped it. I picked it up and then released him. I finished the fight with a kick up his behind that sent him sprawling. He immediately stood and started running. I watched him run away until my eyes fell on the tall man standing in the shadows at the other end of the alleyway.

"Natasha?" His voice was incredulous, unbelieving.

"Steve. Nice to see you." I let the knife drop from my grasp to a clatter on the ground.

"What- What was that? Did you just fight a pickpocket and win?"

"What, so a woman can't defend herself?"

"Well, it's not just that, I mean it's partly that, but he kinda got his ass handed to him. By you."

"I picked up a few moves over the years!"

"Then why were you crying in alleyway? Alone and unattended? And in this part of town?"

"Why are you in this part of town?"

"I was looking for you. I asked a few of the guests at the dance if they knew of you. A Mr. Stark directed me here..."

"Of course he did."

"Why were you crying?"

"A- A friend of mine just died. She was hung."

"You mean... the working girl that was just hanged under an hour ago?"

"Yes."

"But that must mean... Natasha, what aren't you telling me?"

"That I'm a whore. I work at a brothel, and the girl that was just killed for no other crime than independence was called Eliza. She helped me when no other would. So go ahead, have me arrested." I folded my arms defiantly.

"I won't. Just tell me what you were doing at the dance."

"I have certain... extracurricular activities. I was tasked with seducing you."

"Seducing me? So... that was fake?"

I sighed. "Follow me. And walk quickly."

He nodded uncertainly. I turned and ran up the wall behind me.

"Natasha- What are you-"

"Just be quiet and follow." I climbed up until I pulled myself onto the roof.

I gracefully leaped onto the next roof and looked back in time to see Steve nervously pulling himself up.

* * *

A while later I stood in front of the Olde Sweete Shoppe. Steve was behind me, looking uncertainly at the grimy windows.

"You are sure this is the right place?" He questioned.

"Yes." I opened the door and looked at Hill. She was sitting behind the counter, reading. She looked up and nervously smiled when she saw Steve.

"What exactly do you want? We carry a wide range of toffees, boiled sweets and flavoured ices."

"Hill. It's fine. He knows. Or at least, he will."

She nodded and pulled back the curtain. I walked in and Steve followed.

"Fury. Coulson. I have him."

The two men looked up.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, looking around the room.

"Sit down Cap. It's a long story."

please review!


	3. Chapter 3

steve and natasha being together? hmmm, just have to wait and see...

I left halfway through Fury telling Steve everything. It was a familiar story to me, having lived through most of it. And no doubt Steve would only have more questions directed at me once it was done.

I went straight back to the brothel, where all the girls were waiting.

"It is done. Eliza is no more." I sadly announced, wiping away the tears that fell from my own eyes.

I heard howls of sorrow echo around the house. Eliza had been like a mother, a protector to all of us.

"So you are the new madame." Vicky said, wiping away her own tears.

"I suppose I am." I replied.

"When must we go back to work miss?" Rosie asked.

"I- After a while of grieving."

The girls nodded and all went up to their rooms. I walked into mine and locked the door before sobbing into my pillow.

Weeks passed. I heard from Fury that Steve was staying, that he had joined us. The girls went back to work after Eliza's death. I took over running the brothel. Clint came twice, wanting stress relief. I gave it to him without a sound.

A month after Eliza's death I went to visit Olga.

Olga had been my nurse in Russia, practically a mother to me when I was growing up. When I had to leave Russia, she was the only one who came with me. But she fell ill with an unknown malady on the way here and barely survived the boat ride here. I had been scrambling to find work, as a sixteen year old girl that barely spoke English. That was when Eliza stepped in. She offered me work and I gladly took it. I payed to put Olga in a hospital of sorts, for those with incurable sicknesses. But even with their medicines she grows weaker. Her age does not help; her eyes are failing her and her hair long since lost all color. Even when I was a young girl, I remember her with gray strands mixed in with black.

The hospital is in a better part of the city. But the matron never questions where I get the money, something I am eternally grateful for.

"Back again, Miss Romanoff? I do believe she has missed you. She speaks of you often, but I think she is under the impression she's still in Russia, and that you are just a child."

I smiled weakly and followed the nurse down long, cold hallways.

"So there is no improvement?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. She has recognized me once or twice since your last visit. But you may help. She always likes it when you visit."

I nodded. The nurse opened the door.

"Miss Olga? You have a visitor."

The old woman sitting by the window muttered in Russian. Her eyes looked glazed over and her hair hung lankly. Bony fingers clung to the arms of her rocking chair.

"Has she been fed at all? Go get some food!" I said harshly. The nurse nodded and left. I went over and sat in front of Olga.

"Olga! I am here to see you." I said carefully in Russian.

She looked down at me and I saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes. I felt an ember of hope burn a little brighter. "Natasha! You should be at lessons with your tutor! Bold girl!"

"Please Olga, I am here to help you." I said softly. I took her bony hand in mine.

"You know how your father disapproves of you missing lessons!"

I closed my eyes as a single tear slipped down my cheek.

The nurse arrived back and handed me a bowl of soup.

"Olga, please, drink." I tried feeding her a spoonful but the second it touched her lips she screamed and her arms and legs started thrashing about wildly. I fell back and scrambled away.

"Help me hold her down!" The nurse shouted at me. Scared, I rushed to Olga's side and grabbed her arms. The nurse pulled out a bottle of something and poured it down Olga's throat.

Olga stopped moving and her eyes slowly closed. I helped the nurse lift her onto the bed and left the room.

"This was just a bad day, I'm afraid. She has good days and bad days." The nurse said, trying to comfort me as she locked the door.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"Come on now. I'll make you a nice sweet cuppa and we can talk about it after." The nurse guided me down to a small kitchen and boiled water.

I took the cup of tea with shaking hands and sipped the sugary drink.

"It was just bad luck that you got here on a bad day, that's all."

I lost track of time and soon darkness started falling.

"I think you should be on your way soon."

I nodded. "How much is owed?"

"I'll check that now."

I put down my empty cup and followed her to the main desk. I payed quickly and hesitated before speaking. "Can I see her again? Just to say goodbye?"

"Of course miss. She should still be asleep now."

I went back up to the small room. "I have missed you Olga." I said softly. I kissed her cheek and the old lady smiled slightly in her sleep.

I left the hospital, barely managing to hold in tears. I didn't see any cabs around and decided to chance the long walk home.

By the time I got home darkness had long since fallen. The grandfather clock in the hall told me it was just past midnight.

But my mind was far too occupied with thoughts of Olga to sleep. I went into the study that had become mine when I took over the brothel and cried.

A little after one my sobs were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. I wiped my eyes and stood, confused. Who would be calling at that hour?

But I swept out into the hallway and opened the door a crack.

"Steve!" I gasped upon seeing the man at the door.

"Can you help me?" He panted, breathing heavily. I noticed he was clutching his side and his hand was bloody.

"Of course!" I opened the door wider and he stumbled in, leaning on the wall for support. I put his arm on my shoulders and led him into the kitchen.

"What happened?" I asked, filling a basin with water and grabbing a fresh rag.

"I was on a job from Fury. One of the men pulled out a sword and cut me."

"Sit up there." I tapped the counter and he obeyed. I took off his leather jacket and bloodied shirt and looked at the wound. It was bleeding too much for me too see properly. "How far were you?"

"Just a few blocks."

I glared at him.

"Streets. Sorry."

I dipped the rag in the water and started washing the blood away.

"Here. Hold that there, I think I have something to stop the bleeding."

I handed him the rag and and almost ran to the medical supplies in the study. I pulled out a lotion and went back.

"What would someone in your profession do with such a thing?" He asked curiously.

I pressed the rag a little harder and he moaned. "You are not the only one who does work for Fury. And besides, not all men seek only sex when they pay. Others wish to keep their habits secret. Either way, it can be useful."

I wiped away more blood and then rinsed my hands. I poured a little of the lotion onto my fingertips and gently rubbed it into the wound. He winced and I lightened my touch.

"It is not too deep. You will survive." I pulled a sheet out of a press and started tearing away strips. I tightly tied them around Steve's abdomen and pulled out a mop.

"I did not realize you were the domestic type." Steve commented as I started washing the floor.

"I am not. But the girls will panic if they come down in the morning and there is blood on the floor."

Once done I grabbed his shirt and put it in a basin of water with the rag.

"You were crying." Steve said softly, touching my cheek with a single finger.

I swallowed and forced myself not to cry again. "Yes, well, Captain Rogers, not everyone is so lucky as to become a war hero who could get anything he wanted."

"Why were you crying?" He pressed on.

"It is none of your business!" I snapped at him.

"And when did I become Captain Rogers again? I told you to call me Steve."

"Before you knew the truth. I doubt a man of honor would want a whore speaking his Christian name."

"What you do for a living matters little to me. And honor demands you treat all equally, no matter what."

I sat at the table and sighed. "It is Olga, my nurse when I was a child."

"Olga?"

"Yes. She is possessed by an illness that none can name; most days she believes to be in the past, that I am still a child or even further back than that. She only gets worse as time goes by; one day she did not even remember her own name."

"I- I'm sorry." He said gently.

"I do not know what I will do without her! She has always been there, from the day I was born! She is like a mother to me!"

I didn't even realize I was crying until he softly wiped away tears. I buried my face in his shoulder, sobbing.

"Tell me about your childhood. In Russia." Steve said softly, pulling me onto his lap.

"I told you more than one lie that night, at the dance. When I said I wasn't related to the Russian Tsars."

"Oh?"

"My father was Nicholas the First of Russia. The tsar. My mother had an affair with him, once. She fell pregnant with me. Olga had been her nurse when she was a child, and she stayed with my mother all through the pregnancy. My mother was the daughter of a baron, and was sent away from the Russian court. But she died giving birth to me in 1845. Olga took me, a newborn baby to court and demanded my father take me in. My father was a good man, and he agreed. He had never even been told when my mother was carrying me. I was raised as a Russian princess in all but title. I had tutors, maids, more nurses; but Olga was always there for me. Through my entire childhood. But when I was sixteen, in 1861, my father was assassinated. The whole empire was in disarray; all of the royal family was in danger. But rumors were flying that my maternal grandfather was involved in it; some even said he ordered and payed the assassin. Either way I was in danger. I needed to get out of Russia. It was organised by a few trusted friends of my father. Olga was the only person who went with me. But it was a long journey and I noticed she began forgetting small things on the way to London. It was a rough sea journey and Olga's condition seemed to worsen rapidly. I was scared. When we eventually landed we had nowhere to go, nobody to help us. We slept on the streets for a month before I met Eliza. It was the first time Olga completely forgot where she was; she thought we were both in Russia and my father was still alive. I was desperate and devastated and scared. Eliza saw me sobbing on the streets and led me and Olga here. We did not speak; I didn't yet know English. But she helped me and with that single act of kindness saved my life. And do not think she forced me to do it. I wanted to repay her. And what else could I do with my life? There was worse prospects. I had a home and food and warmth, and I could pay for Olga's care. It was a few years before I started working for Fury. I just don't want to lose Olga! I cannot!"

"Shhh. It's alright. I promise you, you will not lose her."

"You cannot know that! I just hate seeing her like this, so... so weak. And helpless."

I found myself looking up into his eyes. Bottom lip trembling, I found myself slowly leaning in for a kiss. I closed my eyes and our lips locked together.

It was gentle at first but soon our desires took over and every movement was filled with need. We stood at the same time and went up the stairs, still kissing.

He broke apart at my door. "You're upset... I don't want to take advantage of you." He whispered.

"I want this..." I whispered back, kissing him before he could say anymore. I started practically ripping off my clothes in my desperation just to have more skin in contact with his. He lifted my thighs and held me for a moment before gently lowering me onto the bed. I pulled him down and forced his trousers off.

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	4. Chapter 4

Finally! More!

I woke the next morning at dawn in Steve's arms with my head on his bare chest. Sunlight shone brightly through the window as I thought back over the previous night.

I tried moving but Steve's arm was tightly around my bare waist. My legs were entangled in his and it seemed unlikely I would be able to get out of bed without waking him.

So I stayed still until he woke, listening to the steady beat of his heart and his soft snoring.

It was soothing, and I found myself thinking that I would not mind waking up in these arms, with my head on this chest, listening to this particular heart, more often.

Less than an hour later Steve woke. He looked down and smiled slightly.

"So you stayed this time."

"I made the mistake of doing it in my own house. I had nowhere else to go." I teased.

He laughed and pulled my body closer to him. "I like this. Waking up with a woman."

"I like waking up with you."

He sat up. "We should get up, out of bed. Fury will be expecting me soon to tell him about last night."

"There's no need to tell him all the details."

He laughed a little. "No, I think there are a few things that ought to be kept just between us. Like how flexible you are..." His fingers trailed up my spine, and I was glad not to be standing for my knees felt far too weak.

"Or just how much stamina you truly have." I responded with a smile.

He kissed me softly. When the kiss was over I quickly started pulling on undergarments before choosing a high necked silk jade shirt and a plain black wool skirt.

"I think we may have a shirt that would just about fit you." I said.

"How? There are no men here."

"Well, you know, you do get the odd wife storming in, looking for her husband. Husbands tend to move a lot quicker and be a lot more forgetful when there is a woman demanding his head on a platter."

"And you're certain my own shirt is unwearable?"

"Well, the blood has most likely washed out by now, but there will still be a rip. Unless you expect me, as a good little girl, to repair it?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Of course not. I suppose I shall have to make do with something borrowed."

I swept out of the room and went downstairs to the press. I pulled out a clean white shirt and grabbed Steve's leather jacket from the kitchen.

He was already wearing his own trousers when I got back, and quickly pulled on the shirt and jacket. I went over to my dressing table and started gently brushing out my hair, before twisting it into a bun and securing it.

"So is there anything to eat?"

"One of the girls normally cooks breakfast for everyone. Like I said last night, I am not the domestic type."

I squirted some perfume on my neck and went downstairs. Steve quickly followed.

There was already a strong smell of pancakes drifting around and a mountain of them were on a plate. I grabbed a plate of my own and took a few.

The whispers started the second Steve walked in.

"Girls. The captain isn't here for your enjoyment, or to pay for the latest fashion from Paris. Do not touch."

Steve laughed and took some pancakes.

"Fury requested me today at 9. What time did he ask for you at?"

Steve frowned and looked at me. "9. Are you sure you have the right time?"

"Positive. He must want to talk to us together."

"I wonder if Barton or Stark will be there."

I flinched a little at the mention of Clint but thankfully he didn't notice. I finished eating quickly and got a light coat and parasol.

* * *

We walked together to the Olde Sweete Shoppe, my hand on his arm, like the sweethearts you always saw walking in parks.

But the moment the old building came into view I dropped my hand and walked faster. I entered before Steve could say anything.

"Hill. What is it?"

"Just a little job. Ah, Captain. Come on, both of you."

"Captain?" I said, turning around and feigning surprise.

"What is it you require both of us for?"

"Fury will tell you."

Hill pulled back the curtain and the three of us went into behind the Olde Sweete Shoppe.

"Captain. Natasha. In now." Fury grunted, looking at a map of some sort.

"What is it Fury?" I asked.

"I have a task for both of you."

"And what would require two members of your "team"?"

"A man. Someone has been forcing nuns and then killing them in cold blood. The dismemberment after death is... brutal. Stripped and a knife is shoved up between their legs.

"You want me in a nun's costume?" I asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yes. You'll act as bait, and Steve will ambush whoever attacks you."

"What if I don't get there in time?"

"You will." Coulson said.

"And I can handle myself Captain. Anything else Fury?"

"Nope. I'll have Coulson deliver the outfit later this week."

I nodded and swept out of the room.

* * *

"What was that?" Steve shouted the moment he left the Olde Sweete Shoppe.

"Lower your voice captain. There are people around." I said calmly.

"I have told you twice already to call me Steve! And why did you act as though you barely knew me?"

"I assumed you would not want word of your relationship with a whore spreading."

"I told you last night, I do not care what you do for a living!"

"Saying it does not matter what I do is quite a different thing from wanting news of our level of intimacy all across town."

"But I do not care if people know of us! I don't care what people think of me!"

"Well you should. The world we live in is not an accepting one. And whatever this is, it must end. You must find a pure and chaste young wife, and marry and never see me again."

"Why? Are you so afraid of committing to anything, that you would throw me away like soured milk?"

I slapped him hard, across the cheek. "I am not afraid! And I believe it would be better for your health if you dropped this matter immediately!"

"Why are you so unwilling to put your trust in me? You used to be the daughter of a tsar, did you not have some prospects of marriage then? Did you not trust anyone when you lived as a princess of Russia? What has happened that made you so closed?"

"I am unwilling to trust you because everyone I once trusted is gone! My father was killed! Eliza hung! Olga does not even remember where she is! I am alone in this cruel world, and you think I would just give away my trust so easily? You think it strange that I do not give my heart to you freely? You don't know me, or my life! And do not ever think you understand me, for it would prove to be your downfall!" I screamed, and wiped a tear from my eye. "Good day, Captain Rogers." I said coldly, turning and walking away.

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